The People We Leave Behind
by CloudberryCo
Summary: It's trash" he said. "Nothing More". Funny how she couldn't quite believe he had been talking about her.


"It's trash", he said. "Nothing more" Funny how she couldn't imagine he was talking about her.

Arisawa Tatsuki wasn't a "settle" kind of girl. In all her life, she had refused to settle for absolutely anything. Even if you owned the entire planet, there was always ways to improve. This was a philosophy she had taken to heart. So why the hell had she recently settled, for being left behind like some kind of… puppy. Sure, it wasn't the world's most brilliant simile, but she felt it described her situation pretty well.

The situation being, that she hadn't a fucking clue as to what the hell had been happening lately. Arisawa would have been of the conviction that she was going crazy, had she not been too stubborn to even think it. So, her friends had gone down the rabbit hole, and she had the unique pleasure of walking around, following her normal routines as hell itself opened up.

Not quite literally, but that was pretty much how it felt. There was a lurching sensation, everything going black for a slight nanosecond, and then _BOOM._

Time took up where it left off, she was back where she had been before, and it was as if nothing happened. This was additional fodder for the "going-insane theory", but Tatsuki instead tried to brush it off as being the result of severe dehydration. Yes, she had forgotten to bring her water bottle to karate class again.

That was, until about a week after the weird incident. An approximate estimation, since she for some reason couldn't pin-point the exact day or time it had happened. But the approximate week later, she remembered just fine.

Arisawa Tatsuki was on her way home from another day of judo practice, still wearing her gi, when things started to…rumble. The lurching sensation was back. But this time, it wasn't accompanied by the black-out. When it finally stopped, Tatsuki found herself face to face with the asphalt road, straining not to hurl. Arisawa Tatsuki most definitely didn't hurl in public.

Placing both hands firmly against the ground, Tatsuki slowly and carefully eased herself off the road. Getting her knees under her body, she shakily managed to rise, only to see someone walking away from her at a brisk pace. Her body tensed. It was him.

She didn't realize she remembered until now. Until this very moment. Even without seeing his face, she knew it was him. A cold voice resounded in her head. _"It is trash". _Not 'she is trash', not even a more direct 'you are trash'. A calmly stated fact which in less than a second honed in on all the small insecurities and question marks that was her.

In less time than what it took for Tatsuki to register what she was doing, she was charging off after the man, prepared to tackle him to the ground, and beat correct grammar out of him. And if in the process, she managed to punish him for thinking of her as trash, then it was a welcome bonus.

Naturally, this was not a well thought-out plan. But somehow that ripping apart of the fabric of reality had addled her brain, so when she prepared to tackle the man in front of her to the ground, he side-stepped, and Tatsuki once again found herself face to face with the asphalt.

This time, she got off the ground faster. He was still walking away.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

He stopped, and looked back at her with a glance that might have dropped a lesser woman dead in her tracks. Tatsuki simply trembled a bit at the knees. She shrugged off the feeling of dread, and launched herself at him again. Her left hook swung wide as he side-stepped again.

"What are you doing?"

Damn him, he sounded calm. She took a break from her attack, to stare at him.

"You bastard, you don't remember the people you presume to dub trash?"

She hadn't meant to say it. It sounded weak and pathetic. Like a puppy. Damn it.

"If I did, that would elevate them above trash, now wouldn't it?"

He stared at her without expression, but damn if that didn't piss her off further. She aimed yet another punch at him, but no matter what she tried, she still couldn't land a single hit. She was simply too slow. If Tatsuki had been more of a weepy girl, she might have cried. Instead, she only got angrier with every missed punch.

"Are you done?"

Breathing heavily, she defiantly met his eyes. Her jaw clenched.

"This will never be done."

"…you are wasting my time."

"You are wasting your own damn time."

For the first time since she had met that damn psycho freak, a look of dubious surprise flickered across his features. Tatsuki wasn't sure if it was something she had said. But it was true. If he was fast enough to dodge her attacks, he shouldn't have trouble running away from her. Not that it always worked like that.

"You are still trash."

With that haughty reply, he turned and started walking away again. Only to stop when something hard bounced off his head. Eyebrows furrowed, he glared at the offending sneaker, lying on the ground.

"Damn you to hell, Gilligan!"

With that, he watched her walk away briskly. Ulquiorra was still pondering what the hell happened, when Tatsuki turned the corner, and mentally congratulated herself for not getting left behind by at least one person. Even if that person was a bastard of immeasurable proportions.


End file.
